


Peculiar Tradition

by hid4n



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday Presents, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hid4n/pseuds/hid4n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Virus's birthday is coming up, and Trip has decided that he wants to try something out of the ordinary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peculiar Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Virus~! (´∇ﾉ｀*)ノ  
> I decided to write something for Virus's birthday this year. It was a little rushed since I decided _yesterday_ that I would write it, but I hope it's alright. Enjoy!
> 
> (There's hardly any tags I can apply to this right now, orz. Sorry about that.)

Trip wanted to try something new this year.

Every year, he and Virus could never find a reason to celebrate the days of their births – not that they thought very hard about it. Virus was probably too busy to think about such trivial matters, and Trip just never really thought about it; his birthday was irrelevant in his opinion, and he honestly didn’t know his partner’s birthday by heart. Virus didn’t give him a very good reason to remember, though, so he couldn’t exactly blame himself. He knew it was in February – that much he could remember – but beyond that, he hadn’t a clue.

They had spent so many years acting like neither of them even had birthdays that the idea of actually having a celebration on the day you were born became quite strange to both of them. Growing up underneath Toue reinforced the pettiness of such a concept – and Trip wondered if Virus had ever questioned the things that Toue had taught him, especially since his opinion of the man appeared to be so shady. Regardless of Virus’s opinion of their makeshift father figure, Trip never asked him. It seemed like a waste of oxygen, and if Trip knew Virus at all, anything that wasn’t necessary to the utmost degree really _was_ pointless in the end.

Seeing their subordinates pat each other on the back and exclaim “Happy birthday!” was bizarre; at first, Trip would peer down quizzically at Virus, but the natural blond always ignored his looks, so he quickly learned to stop expressing his interest in the queer behaviour between other people. But he never stopped observing it.

Neither of them were close enough to other people to be asked about their birthdays… they truly only had each other. Virus had clearly expressed disinterest in the entire concept, and Trip didn’t need anyone else – he surely didn’t need anyone concerning themselves about some insignificant date that marked the beginning of his existence. If Virus decided one day that it would be worth his time, then, well…

But this year, Trip had reason to strive for something different.

He couldn’t say that he understood the tradition of celebrating birthdays, but from what he could see from his position at work, there was an excess of excitement in people’s voices and an unbridled happiness in the person who was the center of attention… he didn’t understand, but he knew he had a desire to see that happiness in Virus.

It wasn’t news to Trip that Virus worked hard, and sometimes, he worked _too_ hard. He was all too aware of the days that Virus could just barely roll out of bed and fix his hair, his voice a gruff mess of irritation and fatigue when he did speak. Those mornings commonly followed a day where work was especially difficult – numbers weren’t adding up and grunts were misbehaving to the point of calling for Virus and Trip’s attention. The people were often Trip’s job, but he couldn’t get to everyone right away, and that forced Virus to take action when there was an immediate need for repercussions. Double the usual workload equalled an exhausted Virus, which led to quiet concern from Trip.

He knew better than to express any concern – that would grant him an incredulous scolding from Virus, surely. He had made the mistake enough times in the past to learn, and now taught himself to have sealed lips when it came to less pressing matters.

‘Pressing matters’ being the term and concept Virus used. Even if Virus’s wellbeing wasn’t a pressing matter to himself, it was to Trip.

Pressing his lips into a thin line of concentration, Trip balled up his hand into a fist and propped his head up as he leaned on the table. He was perched on the edge of a rickety wooden chair in the kitchen of their home – it was the weekend, so he was permitted a little time to himself in place of work. Stretching a thin film of bubblegum over his tongue, Trip blew a small bubble and let it pop, making a bit of his mess on his bottom lip. _Hmm…_ His eyes were staring downward at the plastic cookbook that was opened to the pastry section. It was adorned with an assortment of bright colors – pinks, yellows, even the occasional green – but Trip wasn’t looking for pretty colors. Slowly, he read the words scrawled in a neat, small font until he found the word he was looking for.

Cakes.

After flipping to the correct page, Trip cracked his gum and opened his eyes wide. The instructions were two and half pages long. _I didn’t anticipate this…_ Sliding his lower jaw in silent intensity, Trip skimmed over the explanation. It didn’t _seem_ hard, but it also didn’t seem like his cup of tea. Whenever he had cake, it was always pre-made and purchased by him – he had never made a cake before in his life. As much as he wanted to give Virus a present, he didn’t want to jump completely out of his comfort zone for it.

Reaching up to toy with his bangs thoughtfully, Trip’s eyes shifted back to step one and he read it slowly, lips sounding out the words quietly.

“‘Preheat the oven to 150 degrees Celsius for glass or metal pans, 180 degrees Celsius for …’ what the hell is a ‘dark or coated pan’?” Trip made a disgusted face, rereading over the first instruction in his head to make sure he had read correctly. _Dark or coated pan…_ Trip looked up from the cookbook at the cupboards across the room. Did they even own different kinds of pans? Trip frowned. He rarely cooked – oftentimes, he brought home food after work and didn’t have to worry about cooking something, so it was never a worry for him. Virus did the same, as far as he was concerned, so he wasn’t sure what type of kitchenware they had.

Pushing away from the table with a quiet creak of protest from the chair, Trip scooped up the cookbook and wandered over to the cupboards. Opening one up left Trip even more confused. There were two shelves – one had bowls and cups, while the other had pans, but they were an assortment of different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some were wide and flat, and others were short and deep. Narrowing one eye with a look of disgust, Trip set down the cookbook and reached out to pull a medium-sized pan from the shelf.

 _No, this one is for cupcakes…_ Trip dipped a finger curiously into the many holes in the pan and slid it along the edge, wondering why he had never tried to make cupcakes at home. They were really good. Sucking in his cheeks in a pout of sorts, Trip tried to remember the last time he had a cupcake. It had to been at least… a few days? Ah, too long.

Swapping the cupcake pan out for another pan, this time a black one that was long and shallow, Trip peered at the thin handles. He honestly couldn’t tell what this one was for, but it was so shallow, he had to guess it wasn’t meant for cakes. Dropping the pan on the cookbook, Trip dug deeper into the cupboard, leaning over the edge of the counter and sticking his head almost completely into the sparse space. He came back out with a gray pan in his hand, deeper than the last pan. It was less oddly shaped than the other two pans he had looked at thus far. Plastering a concentrating expression on his face, Trip brushed the second pan off the cookbook and looked at the pictures displayed.

“This looks…” Trip stopped, slowly pushing his bubblegum to the inside of his cheek with his tongue. It looked like the picture in the book, but he wasn’t sure...

With a quiet growl of annoyance, Trip flipped the pan over and scanned the underside for some type of confirmation, but he found none. The bottom was flat, without any kind of engraving. _Who the hell has time for this sort of shit?_ Trip shifted the gum from one side of his mouth to the other and set his jaw roughly, swiping his tongue over his teeth. This is what he got for trying to do something nice for Virus… They didn’t even have labelled pans! How was he supposed to figure this out?

Trip set down the pan, creating a loud clattering sound when it hit the second pan. His blue eyes narrowed and skimmed the directions in the book once more, but there was no more information on picking out a pan than he had saw before. _Do they expect anyone that wants to bake a damn cake to be an expert at this?_ Trip rolled his eyes and hissed quietly to himself, flipping the page and scanning the next two panels. Still nothing. Picking up the second pan – the one Trip had already determined couldn’t possibly be used for baking cakes – Trip slid it back into the cupboard with an irked expression. He could look online to see if there was some sort of explanation about the types of pans there, but…

The loud creaking of the front door opening filled the house, alerting Trip. The only two people who had keys to the house were him – and... shit... Virus! His hands splayed out over the cookbook in an immediate type of reaction, body freezing in place. He couldn’t have Virus seeing that he was looking at it. Normally, it’d seem logical that he could claim he wanted to bake a cake for himself, but that was out of character for him. Not to mention the fact that Virus had caught Trip snooping around in his desk, looking through his calendars for the one date that had a tiny black X marked in the corner…

Trip flipped the cookbook shut, recalling the encounter from a few weeks ago while he shoved the last pan back into the cupboard and hid the booklet behind a hand towel rack. He had been on a mission to discover the exact date of Virus’s birth, but it was difficult when Virus himself didn’t appear to want to remember. Sneaking in the natural blond’s room while he was in the shower was a last ditch effort, but it had worked out well – that was, until Virus came out with a towel wrapped around his waist and another draped over his shoulders.

Cringing, Trip could clearly remember the tone of Virus’s voice when he had questioned what Trip was doing in his desk drawer. Flustered, the younger of the two had tried to come up with some excuse about work, but Virus’s expression made it clear that he didn’t completely believe him. Regardless of the success of his lie, Virus had shooed Trip out of his room.

The most important part was that Virus shooed Trip out _after_ he had saw the dubiously marked date in the small handprint calendar.

February 23rd.

And now it was the weekend beforehand and Trip still hadn’t baked the cake. Grimacing as he heard Virus hanging up his coat in the next room, Trip tried to think of something that could suffice as a birthday present. He couldn’t remember the types of things that his subordinates gave each other, so he couldn’t even lean on that knowledge. Trip knitted his brows and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for Virus to enter the kitchen. It wasn’t like Trip to hang out here, so it’d probably be a bit of a shock to the older yakuza…

And surprised he was. Virus stepped through the door, his hands fixing the wrinkled edge of his blazer absently. When he looked up, his eyes met Trip’s immediately and portrayed a sense of uncertainty.

“Trip?” He said, his voice a little curious. His glasses were fogged up, probably from the warmth of the house, but the film was already beginning to fade. “What are you doing in the kitchen? ..And at this time?” Virus had raised his arm, tapping his Coil and checking the time. Trip internally grimaced. He didn’t even know how much time he had spent looking for the cookbook and slaving over the confusing directions.

“I was hungry.”

“And… you didn’t just go purchase something from the store?” Trip tried to keep his expression bland – he realized his mistake the moment the words had left his mouth, but he could cover his trail easily if he just stayed on his toes. Virus looked tired, so he wouldn’t be _that_ sharp right now… right?

“I’m tired.” He offered, shrugging his shoulders dismissively. He hadn’t really done anything today to make him tired, but Virus had been out for most of the day, so he couldn’t know that. Pulling the corners of his lips down in a frown, Trip tightened his arms over his chest. “I didn’t want to go out.”

Virus was looking at his Coil as if what was on it was more interesting than anything Trip had to say. His lenses were clear again but the glare from his Coil’s light made it impossible for Trip to decipher anything from his eyes. “Alright,” Virus sighed, walking further into the kitchen slowly to avoid bumping into anything while he presumably read something. Trip watched him casually while hoping that Virus didn’t need to use the hand towels for anything.

There was a long beat of silence when Virus stopped in the middle of the room. Suddenly, he exhaled heavily and closed out the application on his Coil, dropping his arm to his side. “I’m going to make a cup of tea. Would you like one?” Trip looked to the side and cocked his head, pushing away from the countertop he had been leaning against. If Virus was going to make tea, he wasn’t going to be anywhere near the rack that was hiding the cookbook.

“Nah,” he responded, unlinking his arms and waving a hand idly. Virus opened the cupboard with the teacups and started rummaging around as Trip walked away from him.

“Suit yourself.”

When he was nearly out of the room, Trip stopped in the doorway, his hand laying lightly on the trimming. “Hey Virus?”

“Mmm?”

Trip paused, pushing the wad of bubblegum around in his mouth idly. “I want to have sex soon. Can we on the… hm… the twenty-third?” He had never explicitly asked like this, but it was the best way to ensure that their schedules would line up correctly.

“Uh…” The sound of clinking porcelain stopped suddenly, but started back up after a second of hesitation. “Sure, I guess. Why the twenty-third?” Behind him, Trip could hear creaking as Virus closed the cupboard slowly.

“It’s my free day.” Trip lied smoothly, fingertips digging into the wooden frame. “Ah, and Virus?” He turned to glance at Virus, sliding his hand along the rough edge of the trimming so it bit harshly against the soft skin of his palm. “I’m horny, so make sure you’re ready.”

There was the clatter of porcelain against the marble countertop as Trip slipped out of the room, leaving a surprised Virus to his afternoon tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I was torn between just writing this as the whole work, and possibly making it a fanfiction broken up into chapters. After a bit of debating, I believe that it will be two part piece. When I find time, I'll write part two to this.  
> For now though, I hope this was a sufficient birthday present to one of my favorite DMMd characters~


End file.
